Blow ye winds. Trad.

As I ga’ed oot one morning fair

To view the meadows round

Well there I saw a pretty girl

Come trippin’ o’er the ground

Chorus

Sing blow ye winds in the morning

Blow ye winds aye-o

Clear away the runnin’ gear

And blow, boys, blow

My father has a milk white steed

He keeps it in the stall

It winnae eat it’s hay or corn

And it winnae go at all

I told my tale unto the maid

She laughed right in my face

So I took her off to the horses stall

And I put her in the horses place

She says this is an awful thing

To treat a maiden so

Take off the reigns and halter

And to sea with you I’ll go

She dressed up in her Sunday best

To meet me at the church

But my lugger sailed the night before

And I left her in the lurch

To my fathers farm I can’t go back

For fear she might be there

For the marriage game is not for me

To that I roundly swear

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